


Getting Out of Bed Is Hard

by juminswhore



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, short fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juminswhore/pseuds/juminswhore
Summary: Jumin and his fiancée are meant to catch a flight for a weekend away, but oh how hard it is to get out of bed sometimes.
Relationships: Han Jumin & Reader, Han Jumin/Main Character, Han Jumin/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108





	Getting Out of Bed Is Hard

“Don’t squirm so much.”

“I can’t help it.”

Jumin left out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his now-tangled hair. Propping up an elbow, he rested his head in his hand, cocking to the side as he eyed the young woman beneath him. Her knees were tucked against either side of his hips, her arm bent over her flushed face, covering her eyes. 

Jumin’s teeth grazed his bottom lip, his heart thumping heavily, before leaning back down, prodding her to turn her head to the side so he could press his lips against her neck. 

Peppering her with kisses, she wiggled beneath him, her eyebrows scrunching up.

Jumin nipped at her. “You move too much,” he said, smiling. Pressing a kiss against her cheek, he scooted up, propping his elbows on either side of her head. 

“It tickles,” she said, her eyes fluttering open. 

Jumin turned to glance at the time on his phone. “We’re going to have to get out of bed here soon if we want to catch our flight.” 

Despite his words and concerned tone, Jumin tightened his hold on the woman beneath him and hugged her, squeezing her just enough to make her gasp. 

“ _ Jumin! _ ” she cried, slapping his shoulder. She let out a laugh as he rolled them to the side. 

“You have no idea how much pleasure I get from simply holding you in our bed.” Jumin kissed her cheek before dragging his fingers up and under her shirt, finding the ticklish spot on her waist. 

She let out a yelp and tried to roll away before he pulled her back, his own laughter bouncing off the walls. “So mean!” she yelled. 

Jumin hummed before tucking his nose into her neck. Instantly, her fingers found his hair. With a faint smile on his lips, he said, “How am I supposed to enjoy holding my fiancée when she can’t even stay still?”

“Don’t even try me,” she warned playfully. “You know  _ exactly  _ what you’re doing, mister.” 

He let out a howl of laugher before pulling her closer. With her arms winding around him, a leg thrown over his waist, they slowly fell into a comfortable silence. 

Jumin wished he could stay like this forever. 

It  felt like it was only yesterday he was holding the phone close, the sound of her voice like music to his ears, wishing for nothing more than this very moment. She was so playful. He couldn’t wait to lay in bed rolling around with her. It was like a far-away fantasy at the time. A dream. 

Yet. Now that he had it, a dream come true. It still felt surreal. With the smell of her soap faint from last night’s bath and the feel of his very own shirt she was wearing against his skin, it seemed almost too good to be true. 

Jumin was thankful he’d set an early alarm. Already they'd spent at least a half hour tangled in each other's arms, kisses given graciously and tickles not so nicely. At ten they were supposed to catch a flight to his winery. It was a quarter to eight, but Jumin wasn’t worried. It wouldn’t take them long to get ready and head to the airport. 

And if they did miss their flight, they could simply take another. It wasn’t every day he got to lay in bed with the love of his life. With them still unmarried, they didn’t live together, but Jumin couldn’t help but invite her to stay over at least twice a week. With times like this, he never wanted her to leave. 

The bed just wasn’t the same without her. Where he once slept fine on his own, he now couldn’t help but turn over, eyeing the spot that should be occupied. 

She’d left her mark everywhere. No stone was left unturned. Never to be the same. 

There were certain mugs and cups that she used that Jumin simply couldn’t because they were  _ hers.  _ There was  _ her _ side of the bed.  _ Her _ shirts (that were actually his).  _ Her  _ blanket left thrown across  _ her _ seat on the couch.  _ Hers. Hers. Hers.  _

Even the sheets smelled of her. It drove him crazy. He knew he wanted to marry her as quickly as he could, afraid of the unwanted possibilities that haunted his insecure mind. Worries of her realizing her worth outshone his own, that she deserved better, finding someone else, or that she no longer wanted or loved him. But now. . . He wanted to marry her  _ today. _

But of course, he knew that was unfair. 

How happy she already was planning their wedding, the excitement building and growing every day. She deserved to have a blissful engagement, preparing her for the whirlwind of a marriage he planned for her. 

Still, though, Jumin was honest about his feelings with her. 

He no longer wished to spend another night, meal, or trip alone. He wanted her by his side. He felt incomplete without her physical presence with him. He knew he couldn’t have her 24/7, but he’d try. 

And so, he’d planned a four day weekend away at the winery. With only five weeks left to go for their wedding, she couldn’t help but feel a bit stressed. 

Jumin tried to hush her and calm her nerves, urging her that he’d take care of everything and she should relax. But of course, this only soothes her for brief moments. When it came to the publicity, changes in environment, and her move from her own place to his own, she couldn’t help but get antsy. 

_ “I haven’t even begun packing, Jumin. I was up all night sorting through things I slept in and almost missed brunch with your father. I was so late,”  _ she cried one night. Jumin couldn’t help but smile at her antics. The simple fact that she cared so much made his heart swell. 

Jumin hummed at the memory. Lifting his head, he found her drifting off; eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Checking the time once more, he groaned. As much as he wanted to lay in bed with her all day, he  _ much _ rather lay in bed and drink freshly made wine. 

“My love,” he cooed, bringing a hand up to her face. He lifted up, scooting upwards to press his lips against hers. She hummed and turned away. He let out a chuckle before turning her face back towards him. “Love, we must get up and get ready if we’re going to make it to the airport on time. I already picked our clothes out last night so all you have to do is get dressed. I’ll make you breakfast and a cup of coffee while you get ready. It’ll be cool at the grape farm, so I prepared you a jacket, too. I can’t wait to show you the winery. If you love it, we can visit more often. It’s one of my favorite places to go during busy times, and I would love nothing more than to share that happiness with you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, hugging him close. “You’re not real,” she muttered into his cheek, smiling. “You’re too sweet. Too thoughtful.”

Jumin rubbed his nose against hers. “If anything,  _ you _ are a figment of my imagination. I don’t deserve you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, my love.”

Pressing a chaste kiss against her lips, he sat up, pulling her up with him. He grinned at the sight of her knotted hair, dressed in his too-big-for-her shirt, and still tangled up in the sheets that bunched around her legs. 

He cupped her cheek and kissed the other. Once, twice, thrice. No amount was ever enough nowadays. 

“I love you,” he said before pulling away. “Now, go get ready and I’ll start breakfast.”

Slipping out of bed, Jumin hurried to the kitchen. 

To anyone who’d known Jumin before, they’d find the sight quite humorous. Still dressed in his pajamas, he was already making a mess in the kitchen, but he wasn’t worried.

There was something about being in love that made even the littlest things most excitable. Before, breakfast was simply a part of his day. Now, it was one of the many acts of love he always made sure to do for her. Everything was fun because it became meaningful. Even cutting up strawberries and grinding coffee beans. 

He hoped she didn’t mind strawberry pancakes again. 

As if by muscle memory, Jumin was quick to cook and prepare their breakfast, his mind busy with thoughts and plans for the rest of their day.

And with careful precision, he stacked her pancakes and poured her coffee into her favorite mug, excited about the words he knew all too well she’d say once out of the bathroom.

“Pancakes!” she’d say, slipping into the chair she always sat at. “How’d you know I wanted your strawberry pancakes?”

Jumin cracked a smile at the repetitive memory. 

There was simply  _ something  _ about being in love that made Jumin truly enjoy life. And never would he trade it for any other way. 


End file.
